


Putting Two and One Together

by deirdre_aithne



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Multi, Romance, Veela Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-05
Updated: 2011-05-05
Packaged: 2019-10-27 13:31:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17767691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deirdre_aithne/pseuds/deirdre_aithne
Summary: Being so near to the two of them and unable to touch or speak to them was maddening.





	Putting Two and One Together

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kitty_fic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitty_fic/gifts).



> **Disclaimer:** I do not own or claim to own any characters, settings, locations, etc. from Harry Potter. All borrowed aspects of the above fandom are used purely for entertainment in a fanwork, and will be returned to their proper fandom and owners scratch, dent, and injury-free.

' _A safe place to hide_ ,' Draco thought to himself as he paced quickly back and forth in front of the blank wall of the castle. The blades of his shoulders ached and itched, and it was taking every ounce of his self-control to remain even the slightest bit calm. Two pairs of footsteps echoed loudly in the corridor behind him, mingling with the sound of raised voices as his pursuers caught up to him at last.

“What's the matter, Malfoy?” Smith mocked as he rounded the corner, slowing his pace now that Draco was in his sights again. “Too much of a coward to stand and fight?” Draco's palms were growing warmer as he paced one last time past the blank wall. To his relief, a door appeared there and he lunged for the knob as soon as it did.

“Stop him,” McLaggen snapped, realizing what was happening a moment too late. Draco squeezed himself through before slamming the door as hard as he could, stepping back just as the handle began to rattle furiously. “Come out of there, you coward!” Cormac yelled, pounding his fists against the wood of the door. It was the last straw to his stressful evening, and Draco aimed his fist at the nearest wall.

With his fingers closed around his palm, the fire that swelled there had nowhere to go. As his knuckles collided with the wall, he watched the flames curl around the side of his hand in a brief flare before fading entirely as his anger eased somewhat. The ache in his shoulder blades had passed without him realizing, and out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a flutter of feathers that made him sigh. Pressing his forehead against the wall, he took a slow, measured breath through his nose, squeezing his eyes tightly closed.

He'd done everything he could over the past four months to keep his nature under control, despite the constant taunting and torture from the other students. In the back of his mind, he knew he deserved it, at least in part, after everything he'd done over the years. Still, these days, he couldn't so much as breathe without giving _someone_ an excuse to attack him; especially the Gryffindors.

All he'd done tonight was sit in the library to study, and he'd had Cormac and his Hufflepuff friend Zacharias on him like bloody vultures on a desert corpse. Granted, his motivation for taking up a seat at the table near them hadn't been entirely pure. It just happened that they were occupying the table to his left, while Granger and Potter were hunched over rolls of parchment to his right. Unhappy coincidence, and just another continuation of his rotten luck since beginning his 8th year at the school.

After the death of his brother in the Final Battle, the third member of the Golden Trio had been one of the few students to opt out of making up his 7th year. Weasley had managed to pass his N.E.W.T.s with high enough scores to be considered a graduate, and what he'd done after, Draco had never bothered to find out. In truth, he'd been half-afraid that either Potter or Granger would do the same. It had been a rare turn of luck that both had arrived at Platform 9 ¾ in time to board the train to Hogwarts for the year.

The problem had become finding the opportunity to speak to them. Every attempt he made to do so had resulted in someone hexing him before he got near enough to say a word. Other than frustrating the hell out of him on a daily basis, it was wearing on his nerves and his self-control. Being so near to the two of them and unable to touch or speak to them was maddening.

“Fuck,” Draco hissed, gritting his teeth as he felt his wings recede at last. In the haze of his anger and frustration, he never felt them sprout, although he assumed it was equally painful in the end. When he rolled his shoulders at length and felt no ruffle of feathers, the blond man relaxed and finally glanced around the room.

The Room of Requirement had been kind to him, providing a comfortable looking couch in front of a steadily burning fire. “Thank you,” he muttered, nearly throwing himself across the cushions with a grateful sigh. This had become a bit of a routine for him at this point, hiding out either within the Slytherin dormitory- the only room within the castle that he wasn't harassed by the other students in the room- or the Room of Requirement after managing to outrun whatever assailant had set their sights on him that day.

To his surprise, Potter had stepped in on his behalf more than once, when a group of sixth-year Gryffindors had decided he would make excellent target practice. Granger had lectured a few third-year Hufflepuff girls she caught attempting to set the hem of his robes on fire in the library a week into term. It was a small bit of comfort, knowing the two of them had no hand in making this year miserable for him; Draco had gone far enough, in the recesses of his mind, to hope that it was a sign they harboured some sort of feeling for him. At least enough not to want to watch him endlessly be tortured, despite everything he'd put them through in the past.

Of course, that didn't make it any easier for him to catch them alone. After four months of trying, his resolve was wearing rather thin, and desperation was beginning to get the better of him. The process of finding and wooing a mate was rarely a simple one, but Draco was beginning to think the gods were making a rather ridiculous joke at his expense.

“How in the hell am I supposed to even begin wooing the two of them, if I can't even _talk_ to them?” he asked the empty room. His only answer was the crackling of the fire as it slowly ate its way through a log, and while it was a surprisingly comforting sound, it didn't help his situation.

* * * * *

“Oi, Ferret!”

' _Shite_.' Draco straightened his shoulders as he walked, refusing to glance back at the witch who had spoken. His eyes scanned quickly back and forth across the corridor, searching for any other students who seemed to be loitering against the walls that might try to cut him off.

“Still think you're too good to even acknowledge me, do you?”

Ginny Weasley stalked after him as she spoke, her footsteps rapping sharply against the floor. She'd had it in for him since the Final Battle, making it apparent from the moment the dust had settled that she blamed him as much as any other Death Eater for her brother's death. 'Don't turn around, Draco,' he thought to himself as his eyes desperately sought a friendly face in the swarm of students on their way to classes. Most of the Slytherins, however, were still down in the dungeons for a double-potions lesson, which left him alone amidst the lions at the moment.

“Have it your way, then,” she snapped, her voice closer than he had expected it to be. His hand immediately grasped the handle of his wand in the pocket of his robes. With her own wand already in her hand, however, Weasley was a step ahead of him, and she cast her hex before he'd even had the chance to turn.

“ _Protego_!” The shield went up just in time, and Draco's breath caught in his throat as he saw Potter standing so close to him, wand aimed at his former girlfriend. He hadn't seen the other wizard in the hall at all as he'd walked, but he'd also been distracted.

“This isn't your fight, Harry,” Ginny hissed, her eyes narrowing as she glared at Harry, unperturbed by the wand he aimed at her. The dark-haired wizard didn't move, holding his position between his former enemy and the witch. She hadn't taken their break-up well, and the whole of the school was aware that the youngest Weasley held no more kind feelings towards her ex, although it likely hadn't helped that Harry'd been caught snogging Dean Thomas only two months after their split.

“Lower your wand and leave him be, Ginny.” Draco hovered awkwardly behind Harry, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, and the redhead's eyes darted between the two of them quickly for a moment. Suddenly, she let out a short, barking laugh that unnerved both wizards in front of her.

“Defending your new lover, Harry? I should've known,” she added, her gaze focussing on Draco as the corner of her lip curled up into a mocking sneer. “Draco Malfoy is a fucking que-”

He'd heard it enough times to finish the sentence for her in his head. After so many nights of struggling to maintain his composure despite the constant mocking and wave of hexes and jinxes, his patience had run out entirely. The nearly inaudible gasp that slipped from Ginevra Weasley's lips, followed by her wide-eyed expression of awe and terror were his only indications that he'd lost control, until he felt heat swelling in his palms.

Then, Harry spun on his heel to face him and Draco froze, half-afraid that he would take off after the witch as she backed quickly down the corridor. Instead, the wizard took a cautious step forward, holding both of his hands upward in an attempt to remind Draco that he was no threat. A wave of shame washed over him in an instant, and without giving the other wizard the chance to get near him, Draco beat his wings once, stirring the air and knocking Harry off balance. It was only a moment's distraction, but it was enough, and the blond turned and retreated as quickly as his feet would carry him.

A few surprised gasps followed him through the hall as he passed students who either had no class to attend or were running late for one reason or another. He ignored them all, gritting his teeth against the spasms of pain in his shoulders as his wings gradually receded again, and he ducked his head to hide his eyes beneath his fringe of hair. It was almost instinctual that his feet carried him to the nearest downward staircase, and the pounding of his feet against the stones nearly drowned out the sound of Harry calling after him.

* * * * *

His attempts to avoid Harry after that encounter were short-lived. Apparently, the former Saviour of the wizarding world had retained possession of his enchanted map, and was now using it to turn up around every corner that Draco took. Under different circumstances, it would have been a welcome occurrence. But the blond had thoroughly convinced himself that now that his nature had been given away- and the word and spread like Fiendfyre through the school- neither Harry nor Hermione would want anything to do with him. Not that they had before.

It was only a matter of days before Harry managed to corner him outside of the Great Hall, pulling him into an alcove while he was distracted by a letter from his mother. His back was pressed against the stone wall, although not violently, as the other wizard stood between him and the corridor full of students as they left from breakfast.

“Potter,” he said stiffly, uncertain if he should be threatened by the way he was manhandled into the alcove, or aroused by the nearness of one of his two mates. Harry seemed to pick up on his discomfort and took a step back to allow him a bit more space before leaning against the wall casually.

“You've been avoiding me for nearly a week, _Draco_ ,” Harry said, giving him a pointed look as he used his first name. “I want to know why. It used to be Hermione and I would find you nearly stalking us.”

Draco's cheeks flamed at the comment as he realized how obvious he'd been since the start of their 8th year term. “I haven't been,” he started, only to trail off into silence as Harry's eyes narrowed a fraction as he looked at him. “All right, fine! I've been trying to avoid the onslaught of slurs and insults that I was sure would come. Seeing as you have me all to yourself now, though, do let it flow.”

“You really think that's why I've been following you?” Harry hissed, his green eyes darting to the corridor to ensure they hadn't attracted the attention of any of the other passing students before he stepped nearer to Draco again. “To spit insults at you like a child? Perhaps I would have two years ago, Draco, but not now. Not after everything that's happened.”

He felt a lump rising in his throat as he looked into Harry's eyes, and he swallowed nervously. “You don't...hold me responsible for your losses?” he asked hesitantly. It seemed nearly every other survivor was more than keen to lay the blame for the deaths of friends and family on his shoulders, by grace of the role he'd been forced to play.

“What is there to blame you for, exactly? Saving my arse when the Snatchers caught us?” Harry arched one dark eyebrow curiously as he spoke, and Draco felt some of the tension ease from his muscles. “You have your guilt and your baggage to deal with, Draco, just like the rest of us. But I'm not going to add to it with things that had nothing to do with you.”

“Then what do you want?”

Harry's lip twitched slightly at his question, and Draco felt his heart begin to race as the other wizard leaned in a little nearer, although there were still several inches between them. “I want to know why you've been following me all year.”

“I haven't been following-”

“Draco-”

“- _just_ you...” Harry paused at that, and Draco found himself looking at anything but him as he waited for realization to dawn on him. Finally, Harry let out a brief and quiet chuckle that brought Draco's eyes snapping back to his face.

“Hermione,” he said simply, and Draco offered him a reluctant nod in reply. Harry seemed to be satisfied and even a little overjoyed by his answer, though Draco wasn't certain whether that was encouraging or not. “Why've you been following the two of us, then?”

“You haven't guessed it?” Draco snapped, gauging by the other man's expression and posture that he knew what answer he would receive. Harry laughed quietly again, gracing Draco with an amused grin as he stepped away again.

“Oh, we have. We've just been waiting for you to come out with it already,” he said before turning his back to Draco entirely. “Better run along to class, now, Draco, before you're late and lose points.”

* * * * *

“Out for a pleasant stroll through the village, Malfoy?” Zacharias Smith called as he passed. He'd seen the two wizards perched on a rather large stone along the side of the road, but had hoped if he kept his eyes forward and didn't glance at them, they might leave him be today. Instead, he heard the two of them walking quickly behind him to catch up.

“You're not getting away from us this time, half-breed,” Cormac added, his hand curling around Draco's shoulder and spinning him around to face them.

Scowling, Draco threw Cormac's hand off and turned away, resisting the urge to punch the other man in the face as he did. “Piss off already!” Despite the malice in his tone, Draco took a step back as his two attackers rounded in front of him and stepped forward, laughing darkly.

“So, the little Death Eater's feeling bold today,” Cormac said, withdrawing his wand from the pocket of his trousers and aiming it at Draco's chest. “This should be fun, then.”

Knowing that reaching for his own wand would only provoke them further, Draco balled his hands at his sides, gritting his teeth in hopes of restraining his anger. The palms of his hands quickly grew hot, and he breathed slowly through his nose to try to calm himself. Despite his efforts, the burning sensation in his hands only grew stronger until another hand wrapped firmly around his wrist. In an instant, his nerves calmed, and Draco's head snapped to the side in confusion and surprise to find Harry standing beside him, looking flushed and slightly winded, likely from running up the path behind them from the school.

“Both of you, bugger off,” Harry said calmly as he released Draco's wrist and stood firmly between the blond and the other Gryffindor.

“I'd like to see you make us, Potter,” Cormac challenged, although his wand arm lowered to his side.

“Come on, Cormac,” Zacharias muttered softly, gesturing with a tilt of his head back toward the castle. “We'll get him alone another time.”

McLaggen's jaw set firmly as he gave a curt nod, narrowing his eyes in Harry's direction. For a moment, it seemed as though he might speak again, but then he spun sharply and stalked away beside his friend.

“What the bloody hell are you on about, Potter?” Draco snapped once their retreating backs were far enough on he felt they wouldn't hear. “Can you just not help yourself, or do you have nothing better to do than try to save my arse at every turn?” Rather than appear affronted by his outburst, Harry only smiled slightly in response.

“Actually, Hermione and I wanted to invite you to lunch with us in Hogsmeade.”

“Taken to speaking for her now, have you? Have the two of you been running a ventriloquist act all along, or was she too uncomfortable to be seen with a former Death Eater to ask me as well?” he asked, trying to mask his uncertainty with his usual sarcasm; an effort that was entirely defeated when Hermione Granger walked up behind him and gently smacked him upside the head.

“No,” she said as she came to stand in front of him beside Harry, her hands upon her hips as she looked at him without a hint of real anger or malice in her eyes. “I was busy finishing some research in the library and told him to ask you for us. Now, if you're finished being a git, will you be coming with us or no?”

Either the gods were much kinder than he had given them credit for, or they were having an extensive laugh at his expense. As he looked between the two people standing in front of him, both watching him expectantly, Draco decided to hope for kindness and nodded somewhat stiffly.

“If you'd like me to,” he said, doing his best to keep his voice from betraying the mixture of joy and nervousness he felt. Hermione's face broke into a small grin as she reached out and wrapped her arm around one of Draco's, pulling him in step beside her and Harry smiled from his other side.

“Yes, we would!”

* * * * *

“What are the two of you playing at?” Draco snapped irritably, unable to still the nervous tapping of his feet beneath the table in the Three Broomsticks. Across the table from him, Hermione and Harry both looked at him in amused silence for a moment as he glowered back at them. “Well?” Rolling her brown eyes in annoyance, Hermione leaned forward slightly.

“What we're 'playing at' is getting you to stop avoiding Harry, and I'm assuming myself as well.” Straightening again, she smirked at his expression of disbelief while reaching for her Butterbeer. “We're not stupid, Draco, although you clearly think we are.” Her tone was light and almost playful as she spoke, surprising the blond when the expression reached her eyes.

“Why does it matter?” he asked, more quietly and calmly than he expected as his eyes flicked back and forth between the two Gryffindors.

“You still don't get it, do you?” Hermione sighed, shaking her head slightly as Harry snorted into his drink beside her. “ _We know_ , Draco.” Focusing her brown eyes on his face, her expression sobered immediately. “After the way you've stalked and stared at us all year, did you really think we wouldn't put two and two together?”

Harry leaned forward earnestly. “What happened when Ginny tried to attack you in the corridor just confirmed what we already suspected. You're a Veela, and...one of us is your mate.”

Hermione's lips twitched into a smile. “It _was_ a bit of a surprise when we realised that it wasn't one or the other, but both of us. It's quite rare, you know. It's... unusual.”

Feeling a wave of panic wash over him, Draco gripped the edge of their table tightly until his knuckles whitened. “So you've come to... what? Hold it over my head now?” he hissed through gritted teeth, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at the two of them.

When both of his companions reached out almost at once to place one of their hands over his, he stiffened for a moment in surprise before a sensation of calm overtook him and he relaxed again into his seat.

“We wouldn't do that to you, Draco, nor to anyone,” Hermione answered sincerely, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

“What we wanted was to talk to you. To...” Harry hesitated a moment, shooting a glance at Hermione from the corner of his eye, as though seeking her approval. When she nodded once, he continued, “To see where you wanted things to go.”

“ _Things_?” Draco asked, his voice sounding unsteady even to himself as his tongue darted out briefly to wet his lower lip. He understood the implication of what they were saying, but he wasn't prepared to let himself believe they were really offering this to him. To his surprise, both of their lips twitched simultaneously into the faintest of smiles.

“We want a relationship, Draco,” Hermione said quietly, her free hand reaching out to grasp Harry's, leaving the three of them connected by their grasped hands. “We feel drawn to you, too.”

“If that's what you want as well,” Harry added, suddenly looking a bit uncertain as he met Draco's eyes. “The three of us together...”

After a brief moment of silence, Draco finally nodded, allowing himself to give both of their hands a firm squeeze as he did.

“I would...certainly enjoy that.”


End file.
